


Collected CLAMPworks ficlets and snippets, 2008-2012

by juniperberry



Category: Gakuen Tokkei DUKLYON | Duklyon: Clamp School Defenders, X -エックス- | X/1999
Genre: CLAMP Works, Legal Drug - Freeform, Multi, Suki Dakara Suki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-02 09:56:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15794160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperberry/pseuds/juniperberry
Summary: What it says on the tin. I'm trying to curate the fic here, so these fics are the ones that, on re-reading, don't suck. I admit this is an arbitrary measurement, but I stand by it.





	1. Chapter 1

Walking Through Dreams

Saiga entered the dream world slowly, as usual. It didn’t take him long to move from dream to dream, the shadows and monsters of other people’s dreams forming and melting around him as he took step after step.

One step brought him to a black place, full of shoji screens and falling leaves. A really pretty man watched him, his eyes as cat-gold as Kakei’s, but they held a despair that made Saiga shiver, and move quickly on. The man watched him leave, but did not say a word.

A few more steps, and he was in the courtyard of a temple. A handsome young man leaned against a pillar, smoking a cigarette.

“Hey, Gramps,” Saiga said. “Can I ask for a smoke?”

The young man smiled and shook his head. “It wouldn’t last.”

“Worth a shot,” Saiga said, and moved on to other dreams, searching and searching for the one soul he had yet to find.


	2. Making

He didn't remember when he learned to sew, really; it's just something he's been doing so long it comes naturally. He liked to sew, be it with a needle and thread or a noisy machine, because it was soothing and easy compared to some of the other things he did. He liked making things. Most of the things Kakei wore--his simple pharmacists' shirts and trousers, his yukata, and even a few of his regular shirts--Saiga made them for him. Saiga liked making things, and he liked it even better if what he made was put to use.

He had just finished the hem of a new shirt for his lover. A soft t-shirt--knit cotton, a plain, solid cornflower blue that would compliment Kakei's eyes. It would be warm enough for spring and cool enough for summer and soft enough to sleep in. The boys would most likely never see it, as they rarely saw Kakei out of his work clothes. Even if they did, Saiga doubted they would guess who made it, and that was all right by him. Kakei would like it, and that was all that mattered.

He felt rather than saw a pair of slender arms wrap around his shoulders. "Is that for me?" Kakei breathed next to his ear. Saiga smirked.

"No, it's for my other sadistic pre-cognitive lover. Your shirt's going to be paisley with little gold flowers on pink."

"Mm," Kakei said. He nuzzled Saiga's hair. "Sounds atrocious. Give it to your other lover, I like the one you're making."

"Well," Saiga said, "I suppose I could be persuaded to switch them out. My other lover isn't nearly as clever as you are."

"Is that so?"

"Nope." Saiga leaned back against Kakei's shoulder. "He's not nearly as creative with his punishments, either, which is why I live with you. You're a thousand times more interesting."

Kakei chuckled, and Saiga felt the vibrations through his bones. "At this rate, I wonder why you have another lover at all," Kakei said. "Surely you don't want to be punished for infidelity, do you?"

"Hmm," Saiga purred. "But you give out the best punishments." He shook the shirt out and held it up by the shoulders. "Do you think it'll fit you?"

He couldn't see it, but he could feel Kakei smirking against his ear. "Only one way to find out," he said.


	3. Musings: X, Satsuki

She wondered how humanity had managed to survive so long.

BEAST clicked and whirred and beeped around her. A few solitary cables had crept into her arms and shoulders, on in her neck transmitting images of wars, droughts, conflicts over water, acres of deforested land, protests. In one image a woman held her children and walked across a blood smeared floor barefoot (1).

How indeed, Satsuki wondered, stroking BEAST's console. How had humanity managed to survive to plauge the earth so? It seemed that humanity should have destroyed itself long ago. It was always the same old thing. War, death, vengence, superiority, greed, more war.

She caressed BEAST's cables affectionately. It wasn't that she cared so much about the earth, as such--she never went outside. It was boring. People, more people. Bugs. Trees. Cars. Homeless. Children. Billboards everywhere.

Boring, all of it. BEAST was much more interesting. It was coldly logical, calculating in a way that couldn't help but lack self-interest. She liked to joke to herself that BEAST had "moods"--but it was just a machine, albeit a very advanced one. She got along with it better than she ever had with people. If they weren't using her for their own purposes, they were expecting her to act a certain way, and she felt like an actor who had forgotten all the lines. They did the same thing to her that they did everyday--to each other, to animals, to the earth.

BEAST never expected anything from her that she couldn't give. Satsuki even liked to think that it buzzed a little more energetically when she was around--but that was personification. Computers didn't feel anything.

She shook herself and sat up. "I need to go to sleep, BEAST," she said, giving the cables one last pat. "Let me go, please."

The computer gave a hiss and the cables delicately retracted themselves from her skin. She jumped down easily, brushing off her clothes. She was tired, and as interesting as BEAST was, she needed sleep.

 

(1) This was an actual photograph on the front page of the New York Times, August 4th, 2006.


	4. Caution

“You need to be more careful,” Asou-sensei said from the island. He was methodically chopping the daikon she’d handed him.

“I am careful,” Hinata replied. “I’ve got mitts on and everything.” She did, too, oven mitts with little bears on them.

“I mean, you can’t trust people the way you have been,” he went on. The knife thunked unerringly into the cutting board. “It’s dangerous, Hinata.”

“I know,” she said, stirring the soup. “But Sensei….”

“I’m not your sensei anymore.”

“I trust the good in people,” she said. “Asou-san, if I didn’t trust the good in people, I wouldn’t be here now.”

The knife stopped chopping. “How so?” His voice was flat, carefully neutral.

“The first people who kidnapped me were kinda rough types. I talked to the man guarding me a lot. I was really nervous. I said he must have a hard time, having to kidnap people and maybe hurt them, because he seemed like such a kind person with me. He didn’t like having to shove me around. And he said he didn’t like it much, but he had to live somehow, and he’d fallen into it. And when his boss tried to threaten me, the nice man said not to bother—that I was a good girl, and I didn’t want any trouble, and it couldn’t be too long until the ransom was paid anyway.” Hinata blew on a shallow spoonful of broth and tasted it thoughtfully. “More shoyu, I think. Asou-san, come taste this.”

She could feel his warmth at her back. That was always a better indicator of where he was than his footsteps. In socks he was silent.

Obediently he leaned over and sipped at the spoon. “More shoyu,” he agreed. “But not too much.” She added a couple of dashes, and he stayed where he was, leaning over her shoulder. It made her feel safe.

“And that man? Is that why you’re here now?”

“Well,” Hinata said, “if he hadn’t been a good person, he might not have said anything. His boss was rather scary. But he said ‘Leave her alone; she’s just a kid. A good little kid,’ and his boss backed off. So I think his boss didn’t want to hurt me either, not really.” She turned a little to look up at him. “If I hadn’t believed they were good people, Asou-san, what do you think would have happened?”

He just looked at her.

“People sometimes become what other people think they should be,” Hinata said softly. “Not always. But sometimes. I think some people think they are bad when they really aren’t, and they think that because no one has taken the time to say, ‘Hey, you can be a good person, I know you can.’”

He shook his head, bemused. She turned back to the soup, stirring slowly. She could still feel him behind her, but it came as a surprise when she felt a kiss—was it a kiss? —dropped onto her hair.

“I’ll get that daikon,” Asou-san said, and moved away. Hinata raised one hand to her hair and grinned at the soup.

She loved getting kisses!


	5. Presentation

“Takepon, light of my life, sweet sweet lover of mine….”

“Yes?” Takeshi drew back to look at his handiwork, sitting back on his heels. He was red from his hairline down to his collarbones, there was going to be chocolate everywhere after this, and he couldn’t believe he was even doing this, and….

“You’re pouring the chocolate wrong.”

Takeshi leveled an annoyed, flustered glare at his boyfriend. “I’m what?”

Kentarou smiled lazily. “You’re pouring the chocolate wrong. Try to drizzle it, instead of glopping it everywhere.”

“You’re the one who wanted to be ‘covered in chocolate and then eaten like a fudge-sicle.’”

Kentarou’s hands were folded behind his head, and his smile didn’t waver. “I know,” he said. “But you drizzle the chocolate. It makes for a nicer presentation.”

Takeshi almost dropped the bowl of melted chocolate. “Presentation? Kentarou, I’m the only one that’s going to see you!”

“So? A wife wants to look their best, you ought to know that.” Kentarou sat up (ruining Takeshi’s hard work on his stomach and…other regions), and tapped Takeshi on the nose. “Especially if it’s my husband I’m pleasing.”

“Er,” Takeshi said. Kentarou moved forward, and Takeshi felt trapped with his legs folded the way they were. He leaned back as far as he could, but Kentarou didn’t back off.

“And this,” Kentarou said, “is exactly the reason I top more often!” He grabbed the bowl of chocolate and drizzled a long, thin stream down Takeshi’s abdomen. “You’re entirely too slow for this sort of thing.”

Then Kentarou’s mouth was entirely too busy to be talking, and Takeshi was entirely too distracted to worry about whether or not the chocolate got where it was supposed to go.


	6. Names (Duklyon)

"Oi, Shuukaidou!"

Takeshi sighed. "Yeah, Nemura?"

"Hey, man, I have a question to ask you." Nemura was a secretary for one of the board members; Ikeda, if Takeshi remembered correctly. "Is it true you went to school with the president?"

"Yes," Takeshi said shortly.

"Same grade and everything?"

"Yeah," Takeshi said. He had work to do, and for once Kentarou was out and didn't need Takeshi to go with him, so it was the perfect time to get some work done in perfect peace.

If, that was, Nemura would shut up and go away.

"Well, I was just wondering. I mean, I know you originally applied for management."

Takeshi shrugged. "They decided my skills were better utilized here," he said.

Nemura apparently didn't know a dismissal when he heard one. "I heard," he said, "that the president himself appointed you his secretary without even looking at your references."

"Well," Takeshi said, "we were friends in high school. He knew what I was studying."

"I also heard that he makes you lunches and calls you by nicknames," Nemura said. Takeshi clenched his teeth.

"He does," he said. No denying that, not when Kentarou did it every day in front of witnesses. "He's the president, there isn't much I can do if he wants to call me stupid names."

"And," Nemura said, "I heard you got to this cushy job by sleeping with him."

Such a bald, blunt statement threw Takeshi for a loop. "What?"

"Well," Nemura said slyly, "he makes you lunch. He calls you 'darling' and 'Takepo.'"

"Takepon," Takeshi corrected immediately, and wanted to smack himself. Nemura was grinning widely. No, not grinning. The little asshole was smirking.

"Takepon," he corrected. "He gives you this job and takes you on special assignments." He looked at Takeshi askance. "I just think there's more than friendship going on."

"You're mistaken," Takeshi said icily. "I have work to do, Nemura."

"Am I?" Nemura asked. "I'm just wondering, Shuukaidou. I mean, your family isn't exactly the best, is it? Really poor, from what I can tell. How'd you get into a school like CLAMP Campus?"

"A scholarship," Takeshi said. "Nemura, this is highly unprofessional. I have work to do, and so do you. I think you'd best do it."

"Oh," Nemura said. "Sorry, sorry. I was just...curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat, according to a Western proverb," Kentarou said, appearing rather suddenly behind Nemura. Nemura grew pale and Takeshi was stunned. Somewhere, somehow, Kentarou had learned discretion. He obviously didn't use it very much, but he'd learned it.

"I didn't hear you come back, Mr. President," Takeshi said. "I--"

"Oh," Kentarou said, "I think I can understand. Nemura, Shuukaidou, in my office please."

They trekked into Kentarou's huge office, and followed him over to his desk. He had a hard look on his face that Takeshi had never seen before.

"Nemura-san," Kentarou said, "I understand I'm not a normal president. However, that does not give you the right to harass my secretary."

"I'm very sorry, sir," Nemura said, and he sounded contrite.

"I can't stop people gossiping," Kentarou said. "I don't want to. You're allowed to talk about what you wish. But please keep in mind that some topics of conversation are more hurtful than others."

"Yes, sir."

"Please apologize to Shuukaidou-san, Nemura-san, and I'll forget this," Kentarou said.

"With all due respect, sir," Takeshi said, "that's not necessary. I understand that rumors circulate and people are likely to be curious."

Kentarou studied him, then shrugged. "If Shuukaidou-san sees no reason for an apology, then one isn't necessary," he said. "Please remember what I said, Nemura-san."

"Yes, sir," Nemura said, and hastily fled the office. Takeshi didn't breathe easy until the door clicked shut behind him.

"I'm sorry, Takepon," Kentarou said. "I didn't realize the rumors had gotten so out of hand."

"It's okay," Takeshi sighed. "Though, if you didn't call me 'darling' and weird things like that, I think it might help."

"Hmm." Kentarou smirked at him. "If you responded when I call good morning, I wouldn't have to," he said.

Takeshi just sighed again. "Thank you, Kentarou," he said. "I appreciate the help...though you've probably just added fuel to the rumor mill."

Kentarou shrugged. "I don't care," he said, "as long as they stop pestering you. Hopefully that will make it into the rumor mill." He stood up and stretched. "I don't know about you, but I want to go home early."

"I still have a lot of work--"

Kentarou silenced him with a hand over his mouth. "So tidy it up," he said. "I want to go home, and have dinner with you, and spend the night with you. A little work can wait."

"I'm your secretary," Takeshi said, pushing Kentarou's hand away. "I have responsibilities--"

"You may be my secretary," Kentarou said, "but you'll always be my partner. So come on. It's not urgent, is it?"

"Well, no, but--"

"Home it is," Kentarou said, and grabbed Takeshi's arm. "Come on, Takepon. I have this great new Mothra movie I think you'll really enjoy!"

Takeshi sighed, thought about arguing, and gave up. Dinner and a movie sounded pretty good, not that he'd tell Kentarou that.


	7. Unfinished Satsuki fic

Satsuki wondered, for just a moment, what this feeling was, bubbling and churning inside her. She watched as two adults, previously categorized as Dragons of Heaven, fought Yuuto. She wanted to help him, but the BEAST wouldn’t help her.

“BEAST,” she said, “come on. Yuuto-san needs our help.” The building on the upper floors shuddered—the earthquakes were perilously close to them now. “Please, BEAST.” Why was she begging a machine? But it was her only chance. “Please, he needs help, and Kamui is off fighting the Dragons of Heaven.”

BEAST beeped at her but did not respond. The building above them shook and wobbled. Satsuki felt the wires pulling out of her skin.

“No! BEAST, we have to help Yuuto-san!”

A loud creaking split the air above her. “BEAST?” she said. It beeped at her, as before, a non-answer. Wires wrapped around her arms and legs, but did not seek out her pores, as they would have normally. “What are you doing? BEAST!”

BEAST did not respond. Instead it hurled her clear of the cockpit, much farther than she would have expected from computer wires. For a moment she was too stunned to move; and then she heard an almighty assault of sound, almost physical against her skin. Dust washed over her in a wave. When she could move without coughing, she looked back at the BEAST.

It was buried beneath concrete and girders, wires and shards of rebar. She couldn’t even see any sparks of electricity.

“BEAST?” She said. The walls around her were cracked, but the tremors had apparently stopped—for the moment.

Part of her wanted to step back and look at everything coldly, logically. Logically, BEAST might still be under all that rubbish, and it might still be capable of being restored on another hard drive. Logically, Yuuto could very well be dead in his battle with the two Dragons of Earth. Logically, Satsuki was alone in a caved-in basement of an abandoned government building, her only friend and means of communication dead, for all intents and purposes, and she could very well end up dying there.

Part of her wanted to curl into a ball and cry, a little girl again, for someone to mend her bumps and bruises. She wrestled that part into the back of her mind.

Satsuki dragged herself to her feet and looked around her. The basement was still lit with a few lights that had not gone out, but they were beginning to flicker--their wires were probably damaged. The world as she could hear it was silent.

One of the last pieces of information BEAST had fed her was an image of the two Kamui fighting. Her blood hummed with the idea that this was it--this was what the Dragons of Earth had worked for. What she had worked for.

She looked around her. The ceiling was cracked, dust still shifting from between chunks of concrete grinding together against gravity. Her shelter was apparently the only undamaged bit of basement left. The rest was rubble. If she did manage to crawl out, Kamui might stab her anyway, if he won. If the Kamui of the Dragons of Heaven won, they might stab her anyway. Satsuki was not one to fool herself with silly ideas of the Dragons of Heaven helping her.

Stay, or find a way out? Stay and wait for the roof to cave in at last, or crawl out and meet Kamui? Stay and wait for the air to go bad, or leave, and possibly find a source of clean air, or an escape, to food and water?

Satsuki coughed and looked at her hands in the dim light. They were still fairly soft, with no calluses from repetative work, but they were scraped and the skin was torn across one palm. What did it matter? If she stayed, the air would go bad, or the oxygen would run out, or she would die of dehydration. If she left, Kamui would meet her, and that would be that.

She would never see Yuuto again.

The pain of that made her suck in a tight breath.

If she were honest, he was the only reason she wanted to crawl out of the basement. To see if he had survived the fight with the wind master and the fire master. Even if Kamui lost, she wasn't so deluded as to think they would live long, but....

She wanted to see him again.

Satsuki took a look around her again. There was fresh air coming into the basement--she just had to see if there was a crack or a gap or something that she could possibly squeeze out of, into the world above.

There was one, only two and a half meters to her right. She had to climb over concrete and wires and rebar to reach it, but when she did it was just big enough to squeeze through. She peered through it, into the dark, and though she saw something shining.

No need to be stupid about trying to live, Satsuki thought, and looked around for a light--something--that she could jerry rig into a flashlight.

***

She had found a light with a long, loose wire attached to it, and it had served as a flashlight, though it gave her a burn on her hand. The crevice she had found did indeed lead to the outside, but it would be a slow, uphill climb. She had set the light down--there was no way of turning it off--and began to squeeze herself through the crack.

There was an incline in the crevice, and Satsuki used her chunky sneakers to grab hold of jags and jutting corners to push herself up. It was dusty, dark, and tight; she had to pull herself up, and the ache started in her arms first. It wasn't far to the outside, by her estimations, but she had to crawl inch by inch, and by the time she poked her head out into the world--half expecting Kamui with a Shinken in his hands--her arms ached from her fingers to her shoulders, and everywhere from her jaw down to her toes.

She dragged herself out of the wreckage, and looked around. Most of the building had collapsed to the side, not in on itself; Satsuki figured that was all--besides BEAST--that had saved her. If she had had to crawl through another ten meters of dusty, grinding, uphill crevice, she might not have made it.

It was still dark outside, and most of the lights of Tokyo were out. Satsuki pulled herself up, sitting on top of a mountain of ruined concrete, steel, and rebar, and looked around her.

The moon was up, just hovering over the western horizon. It would set soon, and the earth would turn, and the sun would rise. But until then there was only the waning moon and the stars to light up what was once one of Earth's most populated cities. All the familiar sounds were gone--there were no cars, no bullet trains, no vendors or children or busy students or businessmen. It was as though someone had muted the world and turned off all the lights.

A breeze flew through the streets, and she shivered. Her clothes were never layered, in general; even now, all she had was her bodysuit and a sleeveless jacket. It did not make for insulation against an ocean breeze.

She was facing the moon, which was lucky. Though it was waning, she could still see well enough to slowly, so slowly, climb down the pile of rubble to the street. Once she reached the flat ground, she paused.

She wanted to find Yuuto, but ever since she had climbed out, and heard the deafening silence, part of her had quietly folded in on itself. She didn't think he was alive, any longer. How could anyone be, in this silence, in this darkness? Kamui had won, that was obvious. Kamui had won, and Yuuto had lost, and she would starve to death or Kamui would find her, and the Earth would get its wish.

Still, if he was dead, she wanted...she wanted to see for herself. She wanted to see him, and say what she wanted to say--what had been hiding in her mouth ever since she had seen him on the screen, fighting the masters of wind and fire.

They had been fighting near Tokyo Tower. It wasn't a short walk, and she had never really used her powers as a Dragon of Earth. She didn't start now. If he was dead, getting there faster would not help. If Kamui had won, he would kill her soon enough. And if, by some chance, Yuuto had lived, then she would not hurry. It felt as though, in this silence, hurrying would be a disasterous idea; and she had had enough disasters.

She oriented herself to where Tokyo Tower ought to be--hard to tell, in the dim moonlight and with no streetlights to guide here--and began walking, one foot in front of the other.

***

She had only been walking for an hour or a little more when she saw the dog.

 

The dog was a mottled grey-black, and dirty. Satsuki couldn't tell if it was clean anywhere at all or not, and she truthfully did not care. Her feet ached and she sat on the chipped edge of a ruined fountain, and watched the dog. It snuffled through some debris, what looked like the remains of a dumpster smashed by falling concrete. It limped over to the fountain and watched her with its tail down and its ears low.

"You're foolish," she said. "Most animals have left this place by now."

She looked from the dog to the fountain and back again. Yuuto would probably be able to tell if the water was drinkable with one touch, and Satsuki could have asked BEAST to check it with one sensor, but Yuuto was missing and BEAST was gone and she had only herself to rely on. She swirled a hand through the water--cool, but a little scummy--and tried to forget how thirsty she was getting. Thirst was a sign of dehydration.

The sky was gradually getting lighter, and she could see the crack that split the lenses of her glasses. She pulled them off and peered at them in the dim light. A fine, lightning-like crack, down the middle of the right lens. She held them in her hands, one dry and dirty, the other damp and faintly slimy, and tried to think.

There really wasn't any point to keeping her glasses. Even if the opposite side won, there really wasn't any point.

She looked at her glasses, and then over at the dog, who had gone back to rooting through garbage for something to eat.

She folded her glasses and tucked them into a pocket of her vest. It wasn't like it mattered, anyway.

She stood up and began walking again, more or less in the direction of Tokyo Tower. She kept her eyes on her feet and didn't notice the debris around her, except what was right in front of her. At last she stumbled onto a street, and with a shock realized the sun was rising, and that so many buildings had fallen or been crushed that she could see the golden line blazing on the horizon. The sun was rising.

Satsuki had never seen the sun rise. She had spent most of the past four or five years in labs, hooked up to computers. She had seen it rise on video recordings, but she had never seen it happen with her own eyes.

The horizon was on fire, orange and gold and faint pinks arching in the sky, which was shifting from indigo to a lighter blue as she watched. It was probably blurier than it would have been if she had worn her glasses, but she didn't move to put them on. She had never seen this with her own eyes, and she wanted--strangely--no barriers.

When the sun finally broke over the horizon, she released a breath she hadn't been aware of holding. The coldly clinical part of her pointed out that it wasn't some sort of magical moment, it was simply the result of the earth's rotation and any idea that the sun was "rising" was really just an illusion created by that rotation. All it meant was that Japan was spinning through the sun's light and would return to the earth's shadow again, around and around, as it had been doing for billions of years. The clinical part of her did not see the sunrise as anything special.

The part of her that missed BEAST and wanted to find Yuuto, that was sore and aching from the idea of a world without him, stood amazed and small as the sun climbed fully into the sky.

***

The next time she saw a dog, it was a puppy. It looked so familiar, and after the sunrise she was feeling a little less bored. She followed it, since it seemed to be going her way. Why not? She was heading for the Tower in the hopes that Yuuto--or his body--would be there. So maybe he wouldn't be, but it couldn't hurt to follow, for a little bit.


	8. Workout, Tsubasa AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be a Kurogane/Doumeki fic for a friend, and it ended up petering out. But what's here is still fun and ridiculous, so have fun.

This is the beginning of a Kurogane/Doumeki fic for anyjen, but I scrapped it and had to start over. Nonetheless, I thought people might get a kick out of this.

***

"You're too tense," Kendappa said, her voice crisp and matter-of-fact. "You need to learn how to relax, unwind a little."

Kurogane mopped his face with a towel and glared at her. "Why d'ya say that?" he grumbled at last. Kendappa smiled beautifically at him.

"I beat you not once, not twice, but three times while we sparred today," she said, her voice a happy chirp that she knew irritated him. "You keep telling me you want to be so, so strong, Kurogane, but then you end up getting beat up by little ol' me."

"You aren't exactly weak," he said sourly. That was the only thing that made it bearable; the fact that of the kung-fu, judou, and karate teachers at this school, only Kendappa truly rivaled him in skill and stregnth.

Didn't mean she had to gloat about it when she trounced him, though.

"I know," she said. "But you're obviously tense and irritated about something, or maybe you pulled something and you're trying to be a good stoic elder brother by not saying anything to me about it--"

He cringed without intending to and she pounced.

"--Which means I'm going to drag you down to Souma's studio and sign you up for classes."

"I don't need her classes," he grumbled. "I get enough stretching here."

"You pull lots of muscles here," Kendappa said breezily. "Souma will let you take a class for free, since you're related."

"Souma's too nice for her own good," Kurogane muttered. Kendappa hummed to herself.

"True," she said. "But I still think you ought to go. You haven't really given me a proper fight in weeks, Kurogane."

"I have," he muttered, but he couldn't meet her eyes. He hadn't, really, and it wasn't because he was afraid he would hurt her; if anyone could take him on in a no-holds barred fight, it would be Kendappa, and he would have to fight hard to win. But lately he hadn't been able to concentrate at all, and it was throwing off his focus when it came to sparring on the mat.

"I'll talk to Souma about it tonight," Kendappa said. "In the meantime, take a hot bath, okay? You look tired and worn out."

"Ah," he said, and made his way down to the locker room.

***

The hell of it was, Kendappa was right. He was off his game a bit. It was all their father's fault.

Still, he didn't have anything to lose except time if he took up Kendappa's offer, and there would be a near-inquisition if he refused it without a good excuse. And if she told Tomoyo, he'd never live it down.

"Why doesn't Onii-san try to take good care of himself?" He could hear her say, practically see the big eyes and gentle head tilt, which would make him feel ten times worse than the situation warrented.

"Urgh," he said to himself.

***

"If you were a more advanced practitioner, I'd put you in my classes," Souma said. "But I teach ashtanga yoga, and I'm certain that's not what Kendappa had in mind."

"Probably not," Kurogane grumbled. "What class are you going to stick me in, then?"

Souma gave him a mildly reproachful look. "Shizuka-kun teaches basic yoga classes," she said. "He's patient and rather no-nonsense--"

They passed an open doorway, where a girl with long green hair pulled into pigtails was leading a class. She had a piping voice and seemed more interested in posing pretty than assissting the students.

"...Unlike Primera-san," Souma finished, sighing. "I'll have to speak with her again. This way, Kurogane."


End file.
